The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (Nava Katz #1)(20)

With a huff, I propped my chin on Rohan's shoulder, half-twisted toward him, but meeting Samson's eyes. Then I raised an eyebrow as if waiting for the star to impress me.

Samson tilted his head and smiled. The look that had landed him People magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive" cover. Ugh.

Moving away from Rohan, I raked a hand through my curls, the motion causing my shirt to fall open that much more. Samson obligingly looked.

I trailed my fingers down Rohan's arm. Ignoring Samson. "You done?"

"Text me later," Rohan told Samson. "We'll figure out a set visit."

"For sure." Samson jerked his chin at me. "Bring her."

I squeezed Rohan's wrist, willing him to pick up on that cue and go into caveman mode.

"She's busy." He placed his hand on the small of my back, escorting me off.

Samson stepped sideways, blocking us. Speaking directly to me. "Want to come?"

I shrugged. "Been there. Done that." He could infer the type of set –blockbuster, porn.

"Not like this. Come watch the big chase sequence."

"Stand around and watch your stunt guys?"

Samson puffed up. "I do my own stunts." Said with a touch of annoyance since this was well-documented fact.

I let a flicker of interest leach into my gaze, my turn now to run a slow total perusal of him, while I pursed my lips, like I was considering his offer. "That could be fun." I stepped away from Rohan as I spoke.

Rohan tugged me back into place beside him, his hand hot on my arm. "We'll see."

"You do that," Samson said, not breaking eye contact with Rohan. 

Sweet. The challenge was on.

One of Samson's friends called over to him and the pissing contest was broken. "Namaste, bitches." A cheeky grin and one more appraising look for me, then he swaggered off.

"Demonstrating a stellar mastery of Eastern teachings, that one," I said.

Rohan planted himself in front of me. "You're pretty pleased with yourself, aren't you?"

"Yup."

"If you can't follow directions, then you're on the next flight home."

I curled my fingers into his belt loops, so no one could tell how deep my nails gauged my palms. "Samson's watching us," I murmured, pouting. "Also, your directions sucked balls. Samson wasn't going to give a shit about a pale imitation nobody of every chick he'd ever bagged."

Rohan nuzzled my ear, his nip hard enough to make me wince. "You should have run it past me."

I leaned in, my hands between our chests, calling my magic up enough so he could feel it thrumming through his shirt, though it wasn't visible to anyone else. "You and Drio wouldn't have listened. You were too busy casting a Whitesnake video."

"Push me one more time." Rohan ran a finger over my lips.

"You wouldn't."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in until his mouth almost brushed mine.

I stuttered out a breath, stunned into a shocked freeze at his dirty tactics.

"Get a room," Drio called out. I almost did a double take at his perfect American accent. He sounded like any generic TV or film actor. His group burst into raucous laughter, then Samson snapped his fingers, pointing off toward the lounge on the far side of the lobby. They all obediently trotted after him.

Keeping my relief under wraps, I switched off my power and stepped back. "My tactic worked. I was right."

"You were lucky."

"It wasn't luck. I deconstructed that asswipe." I rubbed a hand over my neck. "Trust has to go two ways here, Snowflake. I'm trying to work smart, not hard."

Rohan jabbed a finger at me. "No more going off script. That's a direct order. I won't have you wreck everything Drio and I have done to date."

"Minion. Got it." I patted his cheek. "But do remember that I snagged his interest and keep up the pretense of me belonging to you. He wants what he can't have."

"The chase is half the attraction," he replied.

"Then I'll be sure to conduct a lively one."

Before I could hear his retort, a woman called out to him in a voice that was pure Southern California drawl. "Ro? Is that you?"

He turned, his face lighting up as a supermodel launched herself into his arms. Not up to dealing with bitchy models wanting to play possession games over rock stars, I attempted to leave and give them their moment.

Rohan made no move to stop me but the woman smiled at me with genuine friendliness. "Hi."

"Hello." My greeting was a bit more wary. On closer inspection, she didn't fit the supermodel bill. Sure, of East Indian heritage, she was luminous and gorgeous. But her large dark eyes and heart-shaped face were free of make-up, other than lip gloss. Pin-straight silky hair fell to her shoulders. The small rectangle-framed glasses she wore enhanced her beauty as did the loose trousers and cute embroidered coat on her slender frame, but they didn't scream diva.